


dear heart

by 4horsesatetheworld



Series: liebste (or Caleb multiclasses into a paladin for the god of the fey and magic) [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Caleb gets to multiclass into a paladin, Gen, also molly lives because fuck you, i tried my very best to follow the rules but i also get to make the rules, sometimes the gods see you trying to create new magic and falls in love with you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:42:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24279049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4horsesatetheworld/pseuds/4horsesatetheworld
Summary: After his friends get stolen, Caleb follows his cat for a walk in the woods and meets a god.
Series: liebste (or Caleb multiclasses into a paladin for the god of the fey and magic) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766812
Comments: 3
Kudos: 105





	dear heart

The night is dark and damp, and everyone is miserable. Yasha, Fjord, and Jester are missing, and their absence is an open wound, a missing limb from what remains of the group. Mollymauk and Beau have worn each other out with arguing and insults. Nott drank to deal with them, and Caleb is quietly fuming. His friends are likely going to be hurt if they are not hurt already, and it will be his fault. They have very purposely not thought about the more than zero chance that their friends are dead. They are alive; there is no other option. As they set up camp for the night, Caleb volunteers to go on watch with Mollymauk, so Beau and Mollymauk are not forced to stew through their pain in a watch together. Settling in against a tree, silver string around his remaining friends, Caleb looks into the darkness. Absentmindedly, he finds the symbol he pulled from the Gentleman’s supply point and rubs his fingers over its familiar shape. Godly assistance would not be amiss. His eyes are useless in the moonless night, so he summons Frumpkin and sends him off to patrol the woods. 

When Caleb looks through Frumpkin’s eyes, he is suddenly somewhere else. The damp, pine forest that what remains of the Mighty Nein are resting in is gone, and it is replaced with towering cedars and blooming fruit trees. He can smell flowers and pollen on the breeze and feel the warm sun on his fur. There’s music playing somewhere, just far enough away to only be an echo. It is, he realizes, the Feywild, though how Frumpkin got there, Caleb has no idea. Very suddenly, two hands are picking up his cat and looking into his eyes. 

“Guten Abend, Caleb Widogast,” says the being, tall, beautiful, blonde, with an immensely powerful aura, “While I don’t mind speaking through your wonderful cat, it would be more useful if you could come to me. I’ll send Frumpkin back to you, and if you’ll follow him, you’ll find me.” 

There’s a small snap, and Frumpkin is back at his feet, looking at Caleb’s travel-weary self and Nott curled up beside him. Caleb snaps back to his own vision. For a moment, he debates not following the mysterious being’s request, but Frumpkin bumps his head into Caleb’s leg. Caleb very much doubts it was a request. Quietly, he unlatches one of his spellbooks from its harness and places it under Nott. Just in case he doesn’t make it back. For a moment, he debates leaving some form of note, but Frumpkin headbutts him again, and he knows they will understand. Mollymauk looks up at him from his position on watch. He makes some hand gestures, and he nods before resuming his watch, Beau asleep next to him. 

Caleb follows Frumpkin into the forest. 

It’s still dark; once they are far enough from camp to no longer be seen, Caleb sends one small light up in the air. After another twenty minutes, the trees begin to change, and he begins to smell flowers on the air. He extinguishes the light, as a brightness emerges around him. Soon the sights and sounds he felt through Frumpkin return to him, through his own senses. They arrive in a field of flowers, and Caleb can’t help but pick a few, for Yasha, whenever they see her again. They will see her again. 

“Hello, dear heart, and welcome to the Feywild,” comes that same voice of the being from before. It’s not quite a voice though. It echoes and stretches in some odd way, simultaneously a whisper and a yell from very far away. Caleb whirls to the noise and finds that same not-youth from before. They’re tall and vaguely elvish though something about their features defies quick categorization. Everything about them seems a little sharp, too clear in the dream-like plane of the Feywild. The blue of their robes, the near platinum of their hair, the scattered freckles across a delicate nose, it’s all crisp. The Feywild swirls around them, like they are a rock disrupting a river. 

“Who are you?” Caleb asks in Sylvan, “What do you want?” 

“Well, I want to talk to you and hopefully make a deal,” the being responds in Zemnian, “As to who I am, I think you already have some idea. Your mother was a devoted follower, once she knew you were gifted in the arcane.” 

“Corellan? How? Are you not trapped behind the Divine Gate? How are you here in the Feywild? Why are you here?” 

The god smiles, lighting their eternally youthful face with joy. Reaching out with one hand, they hush Caleb’s questions and brush the hair away from his face. Their hands are soft, like a quick brush of a cat’s tail. A deep warmth infuses Caleb’s entire body, and he is quiet. 

“I am not truly here, only an echo of my true self. And because of that I do not have much time here, so we must be swift. I know of the magic you wish to achieve. You wish to bend reality to your will and fix the things you think you broke. It is a noble crusade, and it is one that will get you killed.” 

“Ja so, you came to tell me what? That I will have to live with the fact that I killed my parents? That I can’t save them? That living—” 

“Dear heart, calm yourself.” Corellan places a hand over Caleb’s heaving chest. Frumpkin jumps onto his shoulders, and Caleb calms himself. The Archeart smiles again. 

“Caleb Widogast, you have the potential to be quite powerful. If anyone was to figure out how to change time, it would be you. And I must admit to some degree of curiosity to see if it might be done. I am the god of the arcane, and this magic would be an expansion of my dominion. I have vested interest in seeing it work, and therefore a vested interest in you and your survival.” 

“Oh. But I am not—” 

“You are worth my attention; don’t worry. But I cannot do much when stuck behind the Gate, unless you are willing to become something more than what you are. You have turned your back on offensive magics, preferring to aid your teammates, and while that is commendable, it is not what is need for what you must achieve. If you wish to save your friends, save your parents, you will need to be more. You must be a warrior, a paladin in my name. And in return I will aid you in your quest for mastery of time as best I can.” 

“A paladin? I am not a good person. I cannot imagine that I would be a good warrior for you.” 

“Good and evil are very human terms when it comes to what the gods can see, Caleb. Whatever you are or are not, I still choose you. Will you choose me in return? Hurry, I am starting to run out of time.” 

“If you are sure you want me, I would fight for you.” 

“Good. I am so very excited. Two gifts for you before I go.” The god reach around his neck, unclasping the medallion that sat upon their chest. It was the familiar symbol, the Archeart’s double crescent moon and cross. They strung it around Caleb’s neck, its weight settling next to his anti-divination pendant. Then, they unstrapped the spear Caleb had not realized was around their waist. The Archeart handed it Caleb, who saw the same symbol embossed in the metal where it met the smooth dark wood. 

“My symbol and spear. It will provide some amount of protection in a fight, and if you have a great need, just grab it and think of me. Some praying with it would not be amiss either. The spear will return to you always, just call for her with your mind and she will return to your hand. She can have a mind of its own when it comes to protecting the wielder, just as fair warning. Her name is 

Ę̸͖̪̲̗̮̹̩͉͈͙̼̘̃͂͆͋̒̌̉̅͒̋̔̒͐͒̕ḷ̷̢̺̦̣̞̖͈͉̼́͂̄̌́̈́̒̒͊͌͊̂̉̈́̚͜e̵̢͍̯̠̞̮̣̱̮̣̎̚o̶̢̖̲̔̈̅̉͌͝m̸̧̺̦̱͓̱̬̼̓̓̈́̉̿̕͘ô̶̧̡̧͚̩͖͖̼̤̱̭̪̮̩̇͊̈́̓͗̂̾̀͆̾̑̏̈́͠ͅn̸̬̠̥̮͉̲͑̀̅̏̑͐̊̿̓̌̕̚͠͠k̴̭͚̠͉̅͛̐̀͗͋͒͠a̶̢̩̖̙͇̺̬͎̺̳̭̦͚͉̒̃͌̈́̋̆͐͂̆̊̈̚͝ͅr̵̢̧͕̖͔͎͇̥̫̹̄͌͂͗d̸̛̥̦̠̣͚̥̣͍͔̮̭̣͚̹̠̄̒̽͆̊̈́͝ǐ̵͕á̴̧̛̛͕̤͎̲̜̫̋̈́̅̓̀͝.”

The Feywild shakes and bubbles, as the god-speak echoes. Caleb’s ears ring. The Archeart looks down at the spear and grins at it. 

“Her name means Merciful Heart, but you can call her Mercy.” 

Caleb takes the magical items, still feeling the god-warmth they were imbued with. The bells of god-speak still reverberate in his ears, as the spear hums in his hands. The Archeart looks over their shoulder.

“Dear heart, my time in this form is coming to an end, so we must part ways, at least in this sense. I will leave you some divine inspiration for your travels. Create, inspire, and find beauty in all that you do. Do not disregard the echoes of lost magics, forgotten sites, and ancient art, for these are some of my first works. Most important, do not forget that magic for magic’s sake is something quite beautiful indeed. Now, follow Frumpkin; he will lead you back to your friends.”

The Archeart places a delicate kiss to Caleb’s cheek and pushes him off, back down the path Caleb had come before, weighted now with spear and promise to a god. Frumpkin trots in front. 

“Oh Caleb, one more thing,” the god calls. Caleb turns to look back. Already, the figure is fading out from this plane, returning behind the gate. “Once you rescue your friends, you will continue to travel, and one day, you will meet a drow who is lost, nearly trapped in the web of the Spider Queen. It is important to me that you release him from her clutches.” 

“How will I know him?” 

“I can’t give you all my secrets, dear heart.” With a final smile, the god vanishes. The Feywild bubbles around the space he used to be. Caleb looks to his cat, who looks as calm as ever. Frumpkin bumps him again, and with his cat and his god, Caleb walks from the Feywild back to the pine forest of his friends. 

It is still dark within the woods, and Caleb is suddenly struck by the time. Only a minute had passed while he was within the Feywild, though it had felt like much longer. As the scent of pine and vanilla grounds him to this plane, Caleb becomes more aware of the spear in his hands and his new necklace. He touches the necklace and feels the same soft warm he had felt in the Feywild. The spear gives off a slight glow, even with no moonlight to reflect; he straps it to his back. Slowly, he begins to walk his friends. 

It is dark in the woods, but he can still see. Which out of all the things Caleb has had happen tonight, it seems the least strange. When he returns to the clearing with his friends, Nott and Beau are asleep, and Mollymauk is fighting desperately against unconsciousness. He approaches him quietly. 

“Hallo Mr. Mollymauk, I have returned.”

Mollymauk jolts up, all sleepiness gone from his face. “Mr. Caleb, felt like we barely had time to miss you. Wait, where did you get a spear?” 

“In the Feywild.” 

“What?” 

“I have a very good cat.” Molly only looks more confused, which Caleb only relishes a little. He puts a hand on his shoulder. “Go to sleep, Mollymauk. I will explain in the morning, once Beauregard and Nott are awake.” 

Molly gives him that look, the one where he’s trying to figure out if he’s full of shit or not. But his weariness wins out, and he moves to lie down besides Beau. He glances at him one more time before sleep pulls her under. Settling back to his previous position beside Nott, he takes the spear off his back and replaces his spellbook to its holster. He holds the spear, in his lap and focuses on attuning it. It—no, she hums, wanting something. Very carefully, he conjures a small flame to his hand and places it on the blade. The spear giggles in Caleb’s mind and warms only slightly to the touch. The flame goes out, and the blue symbol of the Archeart glows slightly. He stands it firmly in the ground and settles in to watch over his friends. 

…

Mollymauk almost dies, but they free their friends and kill the slavers, and it is fine even though none of them are really fine. They grow in number as a firbolg cleric joins them. He sees Caleb’s pendant and spear and nods, and that is that. Caduceus declares them ‘god-blessed’, and they all pretend to ignore that it is not frightening to have this many gods supporting a party. Everyone knows that the gods’ favor falls heavy on the shoulders of heroes; the good tend to die young. 

Caduceus calls him ‘fey-blessed’, and Jester says the streaks of platinum in his hair make him look like a silver fox, and Beau is angry to be the only one left on Team Human. He lets her make fun of his more feline eyes and sharper teeth and creates an enchantment on a pair of bracers they steal that lets her use haste all on her own. 

When he tells Nott the whole truth, that the god of the arcane has blessed them and their endeavors, the two of them have a very small and quiet celebration and get uproariously drunk, leading to Jester’s admonishment and some terrible hangovers the next day. Mercy really likes Yasha, which is a surprise that the spear likes any one at all and in that Caleb can tell. When Caleb extends the spear for her to look at, there’s a small amount of lightening that jumps from the blade to her hands, but she just laughs. In a fight against two fairly stupid giants, he throws Mercy and as she arcs past Yasha, electricity dances between them and into the giant. Yasha, despite her rage, grins and cuts the giant in half as Mercy pierces its heart. She still jumps back to Caleb’s hand at the end of the fight. 

Many months and battles later, the Mighty Nein (who are in fact eight) walk into the Bright Queen’s court. There a slight heat to the necklace, and Caleb looks at the faces of the drows and wonder who it is. Later, when Essek has told them of his story and has joined the Nein (who are now in fact nine), Caleb dreams of a blonde not-youth smiling at him and giving him a kiss on the cheek, lips scratchy like a cat’s tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> so the necklace is enchanted with mage armour, but is always on (+2 AC), and the spear is a homebrew magical spear. It has two special powers, one defense one offense. It has +2 AC and can use a reaction to deflect a non-magical, non-gaseous hit within range (5ft) for no damage; the number of times possible per round is equal to the paladin level. It's damage 2d6, one magical (force) and one piercing, and if they were actually playing with Merciful Heart, the player gets to choose after the roll which die corresponds to which damage. 
> 
> Also, the Archeart and the Stormlord are both enemies to the Spider Queen, so I made them friends which is why Mercy likes Yasha. 
> 
> Also also, god-speak and celestial are different because I said so.


End file.
